1,000 Words About Skin

It's been a busy week. My husband bought me a car. I have all the feels about getting rid of my old one, and am trying to organize my thoughts enough to assemble an essay about the experience.

I did find the time to record something new to put on SoundCloud. This doesn't really have a title, so I slapped a semi-dumb one on it. I'm very happy with the prose but pretty unhappy with the recording; the first two recordings I did sounded a hell of a lot better than this one, and it's been so many months that I don't remember what I did differently to make those sound pretty good and this sound like crap. I can't but say "oh, well" about it. I have limited equipment and even more limited abilities. 

The story of this story is that I wrote about 1,000 words in response to an open call for an anthology about body image. It's not quite nonfiction, but most of what's in it is true. My work was accepted, but I haven't heard anything about the anthology in well over a year, so I presume the editor has lost interest or the project is proceeding without me. Either way, these 1,000 words are orphaned. Finding an appropriate market for them seems more difficult than it's worth. So instead you get to hear them from my own mouth, spoken into a microphone, added to some overly noticeable environmental noise and echo and then piped into your ear. I couldn't be arsed to do an intro, like in the last two, so be ready to listen right when it starts. Sheesh, I'm really making it sound appealing, ain't I?

Oh, well.